


This Side of Paradise: A Omicron Ceti III Retelling

by the_carrots_revenge



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Bad Science, Berthold rays, Happy Ending, M/M, Mind Control, Omicron Ceti III, PEACE AND LOVE, Possessive Spock (Star Trek), Requited Unrequited Love, This Side of Paradise, Universal Belonging, really bad science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22858759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_carrots_revenge/pseuds/the_carrots_revenge
Summary: A re-telling of This Side of Paradise.Filled with requited unrequited love; manipulation, mind control, and a happy ending.I had this idea,  that you know the spores are sentient... and are a psychological attack.  So Spock as half Vulcan would feel them and be able to telepathically communicate, but as half human would be subject to them....   and he wants Jim, because, you know Spirk.... and Jim is somehow immune to them ('cause he was in the show), and he wants Spock, because, you know, Spirk.... and put it all together and this is what happened.Also, once the spores have the entire crew of the enterprise under control.... well that’s a few more than a colony of 45.  And they're having trouble adjusting to such a huge number of minds to influence. So they kind of forget about Spock and Jim half-way through to focus on keeping everyone happy.Big mistake.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Kudos: 123





	This Side of Paradise: A Omicron Ceti III Retelling

**Author's Note:**

> First time in the Spirk sand box.  
> First time writing anything vaguely porny (and it's really slight... so don’t get excited now.)  
> But I had this idea, so....  
> Just in case anyone is wondering, it is a bit of a TOS and Kelvin mash-up. So Jim has amazing eyes, but you can pick the colour - deep dark chocolatly pools of desire, blazing hazel filled with ambition, or sparkling-sky-blue-hope-diamonds of happiness.  
> (Pining for the Shat, ah hahahaha)
> 
> Also, I kind of chickened out on the porniness and possessive behaviour half way through, but it's there (a little) in the beginning. It's just.... I like these characters. I want them to be Happy.

Omicron Ceti III was very peaceful and beautiful.... but her people were strange.

It was not just that, by rights, they should all be long dead from radiation poisoning caused by the Berthold rays blasting the planet. There was a strange passivity, a fulfilled satisfaction, an almost vacancy in their behaviour. They wanted nothing. Life simply happened. 

Spock had never met pioneers quite like them. 

Most pioneers were hard working peoples who fought and clawed and strove for more. They'd left their homes, their families, their friends.... these were not explorers, there was no plan to return... they were simple people who left everything they had ever known in search of something more, planning to build something better.

The Omicron colonisers must had had that drive, that need.... but here in pastoral perfection for 5 years they seemed to have calmed to a state of absolute irenic tranquillity. 

Spock was reminded somewhat of the Flower Children from earths 1960's; yet those men and women had striven for love and peace and prosperity for all. They had had goals. These colonists seemed to have achieved it, taken it as due, and had no further desires - no questions to answer; no needs unmet. They seemed to feel they had found and founded Utopia.

He did not think man was meant for Utopia.

Layla Calomi had joined them; on earth she'd been a brilliant botanist. Driven, burning for answers. A new planet would have appealed to her; so many questions, so much to learn.... He had admired that about her then.... but.... she had wanted to so much more from him; things he could not possibly give. 

Looking into her eyes now he saw an echo of her old regard. Back then she had hidden her infatuation under a human guise of reserve and propriety; now this pale remembrance of love shone from her eyes. She made no attempt to hide it. If he were human, and not Vulcan he would have believed her feelings had never abated. But this was a pale imitation; still; interesting; it showed that the people here could still experience some fleeting desire.

Ah, desire. He looked at the landing party - at Jim. He now understood Layla's past desire. The burning wish to be seen, to be wanted. But he had the captains friendship and trust. He had watched many, many lovers come and go; yet he, Spoke, stayed constant in Jim's life. Even closer than McCoy, more needed. It would have to satisfy him to be near the captain, to express his love in small ways, to know the Captains regard as a friend. He could see no other way forward. There was no pill, no mind tricks, no magical solution to force the captain to desire him in return.

Many times he had thought about taking Jim, about stealing him away, keeping him locked up and just for Spock. Weeks, Months, Years. Eventually Stockholm syndrome would set in and Jim would come to Spock, open, needy, his.

But that would be wrong. Jim was free, must be free. Free to explore, free to experience, free to choose. And Jim would never choose a male lover. Would probably never choose a single lover. He must roam, love briefly, know the universe all. Jim was life. And Spock must be content at his side, worshiping from afar, never touching, tasting only in dreams.

The captain seemed taken aback by Layla's overflowing emotions towards Spock. McCoy also. And Sulu. And DeSalle, and Xi. Spoke briefly wondered at them all. They all knew Spock to have emotions. They all knew of his past relationship with Uhura, although none knew the true reason for its ending. They had all watched him go 'Batshit insane' (McCoy's words) and literally attempt murder after both Jim and his mother's deaths. They knew him to love and be loved. They knew him to have experienced romantic love. Why would this surprise them? Briefly he wondered: did Jim know the depth of his love for him? Was he shocked because he could not imagine any one other than Uhura loving Spock in return? That he had envisioned it himself and refused the possibility? But no. Jim was resolutely heterosexual; could not imagine anything else. He had no concept of Spock's romantic desire, love and devotion; simply placed them as equally devoted friends. Spock had hidden his feelings well.

Jim was breaking the landing party up; Sulu and Xi to review the settlement; Spock and DeSalle to view the fields; McCoy to study the colonists health while Jim would stay with the colony's leader, Elias Sandoval, a communication point, and to play the politics he played so well. Layla quickly offered herself as a guide for the plantings; and Spock accepted.

Layla did not say much, leaving them to observe as they would. She was confident, but he saw no sign of the brilliant scientist. She shared no discoveries, had nothing to add to their observations. She seemed content and happy in her life there, and supremely certain that they could see the virtue of it, with no explanation. He reviewed their interaction with a twinge of unease, she seemed to feel that not only would they view the lifestyle as superior; but also that they would, somehow, choose to stay. Well, she would be hurt; as Starfleet officers it was not in their power to stay; and it was not in his, or Jim's natures to enjoy perfection... but she had been hurt by his actions before. She had already proven she could recover.

The planet itself raised so many questions. The colonists had planted earth crops. They were well contained, but... no insects. Were the colonists hand fertilising the crops? How did the planets endemic flora population reproduce? Earth crops generally required insects for propagation; although some, more ancient varieties used wind. Omicron's native plants – how? How had the arrival of the colonists impacted the planet's ecosystem? There were large fields, but no animals to eat the grass; and no tractors to mow the grass... did the colonist's hand scythe- in which case, why maintain the fields? - Was fire a problem here? Or were the fields prepared back when the colony had animals and the grass simply grew this slow? In which case, why were the crops growing so much faster? Did the crops grow faster? Most of the planet's earth seemed to be covered in dense bush and forestry. When the colonist's arrived were they more active, more dedicated? Had they tilled and prepared their fields with passion? Spock could only assume yes. What had changed? 

This planet, this colony was full of questions, and each question raised a dozen more.

It was a jigsaw puzzle, but one with no edges, no corners, no picture even. He could not fit together.

Layla would give no answers - she promised that everything could be explained, with an odd little smile, yet nothing was explained - when asked she answered 'later'.

He tried again: "I should like to know how you have managed to survive here."

For once he got an answer "If I tell you how we survived will you try to understand how we feel about our life here, about each other?"

As he had many time before he explained "Emotions are alien to me; I am Vulcan."

And, as she had, many times before, she refused to believe him. But she started to guide him to what he hoped would be an answer.

....

After several minutes of walking they approached a large field. At the far end was a stand of flowers. They were somewhat like a mutated King Protea flower on a lily stem. A single stork, supporting a full global head with petals peeling away; The flower was pink with a strange metallic smell, a little like human blood. The stem and leaves were a soft purple-silver.

Layla led him towards this crop. "It's not much further."

"You've not yet explained the nature of this thing"

She sighed, "Its basic properties and elements are not important. What is important is it gives life, peace, love."

It was fascinating. She sounded like the convert to a cult. Between her words and the colonists behaviour he thought she was describing an ongoing high. This must be the root of the colonies communal placidness. Perhaps they used the flowers to create a drug? Perhaps this was the answer to their survival? Properties to mitigate, even negate the Berthold rays. This plant could be of enormous use to the federation, opening vast swathes of the galaxy to colonisation. 

Even more, given McCoy's instance on the 'perfect' health of the colonists.... perhaps this plant could even be used as a cure all? A viable alternative to Khan's blood next time Kirk was unwell... beyond Kirk, a viable cure for illness throughout the federation. 

Spock could feel excitement usually only bought on by one of Jim's more lunatic ideas - brilliance and triumph. The breath before incredible success or utter failure. The unholy gleam in Jim's eyes....

They simply must isolate and eliminated whatever properties caused this placid inertia.

The knowledge of imminent discovery coursed through his veins. Yet Layla had found this first. And she was once a brilliant botanist; to have distilled some sort of cure for Berthold rays she must still be brilliant. He sought to reach that educated, wondering heart - if he could get through to her they could use her research, build on it... he just needed to find the scientist within...

"What you are describing was once known in the vernacular as a happiness pill. You as a scientist should know that that’s not possible."

His words achieved nothing. She shrugged them off as unimportant, and continued to guide him  
"Come....."

They walked up, and then she spoke again "I was one of the first to find it. The spores."

His mind worked quickly.... finding the spores? Did she use these spores to create the drug? Yet her body language.... perhaps he was wrong, maybe there was no drug distilled from this plant, rather they ingested these seeds directly? He must keep her talking.

"The Spores?"

Suddenly the flower seemed to sneeze, pollen, no, the spores, dusted him. At the same time he found himself falling victim to a psychic attack. Pain filled him, and he clutched at his head, this attacker was alien, other, he could get no sense of who or what they were. He could not see them, could hardly feel them. Yet his shields failed. The pain was immense. He buckled under it.

Screaming internally.

Screaming externally.

He could not think. 

Fell to the ground. 

Around the pain he could still hear Layla murmuring "It shouldn't Hurt!" 

She sounded apologetic. He could not address her yet. Had she led him here to be attacked?

Was it the flower itself responsible for the attack?

In that case, were the flowers sentient?

The thoughts were alien, controlling. They targeted his Vulcanity, wanting only the Human. Wrapping him, encasing his essence. He felt weak, his own telepathy shrivelling, dying under the immense weight of the onslaught.

He would not give in, gasping: "No!"

The attack continued, squeezing his psi points, demanding he submit. He could not! He would not! It would not listen to him. Demanded that he seal off his own Vulcan essence and give in. He gasped aloud "I can't..."

Layla's bewilderment reached for him. He could feel that she desperately wanted him to join her, to surrender. She was no longer afraid for him, that was fleeting. Now she was simply mystified. His pain would end if he would just give in. He barked at her "No".

He could feel her more clearly, more clearly. Behind her, with her, combined within her essence he could feel all the other colonists. Reaching for him, Longing for him. Wanting him to join with them, to be one.

Layla now reached for him with her arms. He snarled "Don’t!"

She ignored him, her mind, her arms reaching. He could feel her, he could feel the colony, the happiness, the peace, the longing... and the confusion about his reaction. "Not like this. It didn't hurt us."

"I am not like you" Gasping.

Yes, he was Vulcan! His mind reached up through the pain, through the clenching. He was a sharp, pointed spear. He could feel the colonists, he could feel their individual minds, their collective mind; and behind them he could feel the other, the alien, the flower. It was no flower, it had intelligence, it was desires. It was a higher life form, but he and the enterprise crew, and the colonists could not recognised it. But it was; it thought; it could negotiate. And unlike the others he was telepathic, he could negotiate back.

It put so much into him; the colonists hive mind put so much pressure on him; he could see it all; could see Its desire; its need for human hosts through which it could live; he could see a way free....

Could see a way to Jim...

"No!"

It could see him too, could offer him all. Him, Jim, together, part of the colony, together and apart. Here all loved one another, but some few could love each other a little more, it was accepted, they would belong to all, and to each other. He could see how they lived, the free and open loving relationships they shared, but none would oppose Jim and Spock for keeping only to each other, and Jim would not care that he was a man... sexes did not matter here....they could be together.

He wanted it, wanted it so badly. But Jim, Jim was not meant to be a sheep; a settler.

*No*, the plant agreed. *Jim will be the leader, and you his second*

But Mr Sandoval....

*Will accept, he will love you both, he will be free and at peace*

And Spock could taste it....

But he was Vulcan. The plant could not protect him from the Berthold rays. He plant sensed this and moved to renegotiate: *He and Jim, and those they needed to pilot the enterprise would go free, he would be at peace, they would be together to roam the universe, they simply must leave the others , those they did not need would grow the colony. 

And once out there in space; they could send more, tell them of the perfect Eden, grow the union, the hive, and he would have his Jim.

Spock, deep inside knew that this could never work, that Jim would never abandon any of his crew here, that even if he could be convinced, they would be court marshalled and probably gaoled. He tried to keep this from the plant, but it heard some of what he knew.... but fortunately not all. Later he would speculate that a plant promoting unity could not understand the concept of a court martial or gaol, but for now he was simply grateful that it did not know everything *It will work, we will infect and release, your Jim will be one of us until we release him.* 

Spock rebelled against the thought

*S'chn T'gai Spock we will break down his barriers, he will love you. We see your mind, we see your history. He already loves you, he just needs to feel free and he will give you his body also. We will give him that freedom, and once he has your body, and you have his; once you have achieved perfect union... even when we release him, how will he surrender that? You will be entwined forever; we will plant you in his mind and you will be bound forever*

Spock fought, but the plant bombarded him with images, Jim's golden skin, dripping, his breath panting Spock’s name, needy. His glowing eyes, glimpses of forever. The plant plucked from Spock’s fantasies: the image of Jim rolled, his abs leaving, his arsehole, they taste of his flesh. Clean, addictive. Wetness, Lube, Spock's fingers, embedded, squeezing, stretching, prodding. Jims gasps. Spock's tongue, licking, invading. The feel of Jim in himself, of himself in Jim. The tight clenching, always provided by his own hand, but he could so clearly see Jim, could feel Jim. The imagined splendour of Jim, fucked out, panting, sleeping; in Spock’s bed. Then gasping for Spock in the ancient (and now destroyed) koon-ut-kal-if-fee of Vulcan. Of knowing Jim, of being bound, irretrievably entwined. They could read each other now, so well; but with a mental connection also.... Exploring the universe... exploring each other.... kisses.... and gasps.... fighting side by side... fucking side by side..... the plant tore at his most secret desires and pummelled him with them.

He could have all this, all he must do in return was allow the colony to grow. It would happen with or without him; He could see Ensign DeSalle was already caught in the hive, already belonged, already longed for his shipmates to join him. 

Spock could surrender, and, if his Vulcan body could not stay with the colony he could take Jim, now his and leave; or Spock could die.

He still hesitated, the plant grew more insistent, and nastier..... Spock would be dead; and the colony would take Jim. He would not lead, he could be one of many. And, the plant threatened, with his proclivities Jim be enjoyed by the bodies of the other colonists. It forced images of Jim and Layla, of Jim and Sandoval.

Spock gave in.

The plant could not have him, but he could see what needed to be done. He would help.

The plant receded. He ceased to thrash, and groan.

His Vulcan essence protected, free, ready to be released. His Human essence temporally at one with the colony. He opened his eyed.

Layla was holding him, cherishing him: "Now, now you belong to all of us. And we to you. There is no need to hide your inner face any longer. We understand."

Inside, the true core part of him rejected her words. How could she understand him? Yet, she would be useful. The plant had promised him Jim, yet Jim, even once infected may have some qualms about Spock’s masculinity. Layla would be a stepping stone. Jim and Layla, Layla and Spock, Jim and Layla and Spock, and eventually, Jim and Spock. They would leave, wrapped in one another, but first she would ease the transition.

And she thought she loved Spock. It was only fair that he return her regard: "I love you. I can love you." 

She seemed relieved, and happy. 

He kissed her. Her and Spock. Her and Jim. Spock and Jim.

But now his work must truly begin, he must distract the captain so the plant could infect other members of the crew. And once they were all inflected; the plant would infect Jim, and Jim would be his. He had less than a week before the Berthold Ray began to break down his body. There was much to be done.

How best to distract Jim?

To prey on his fears and friendship?

Layla took his hand, and led him to a hill. There he must relax, lean into the colony mind, simply be.

He drew from their thoughts, infused their desires and needs with his own. From Elias Sandoval he heard that Jim had been ordered to evacuate the colony. In the face of Sandoval's refusal it was only logical the Jim should contact him shortly.

When his communicator beeped, he took his time answering it. Everything in him was instant, Jim wanted to speak to him, he should, he must answer. But his plan was to confuse Jim, so when he eventually answered he behaved distractedly "What do you want?"

And then refused to answer questions and directly disobeyed the Captains orders. Tossing his communicator away he moved himself and Layla away, but not so far away that his furious captain would not find him.

.....

Kirk was angry. 

He did not like this planet. The absence of any animal life had him jittery. The colonists, who should be dead, were so calm about refusing his orders. Apart from the girl, who blatantly wanted his first officer, they all seemed to have no strong emotions.

The leader of the colony was refusing to see the very real need to evacuate. He calmly and logically explained that all the colonists were in perfect health. And would not even discuss the absence of animals. When asked where the other half of the original colonists were he had calmly explained that there were two settlements, but they were completely separate to avoid risk of a pandemic. Yet the enterprise could only find indications of a single settlement. Not even the remains of a former settlement. Sandoval would not clarify in what direction they should start looking for the others....

Kirk had a very, very bad feeling, and was beginning to doubt the existence of a second colony.

He needed Spock, the Vulcan could out-logic Sandoval, could convince the colonists to leave. He would see to the heart of the matter. And if things went sour, having Spock at his back was comforting.

Yet when he paged the him, he behaved very strangely. Refusing orders. Disagreeing with the need to evacuate the colony. He flat out indicated that he did not think Jim could relocate the colonists. For Jim, who depended on his seconds support in all things, this was both confusing and infuriating.

He worried something had happened to his friend.

Leaving Bones to oversee the evacuation he took Sulu and Xi and set out to find his wayward first officer. And when they found him he was kissing that girl, and playing in trees. Spock! 

As they got closer he could even see that Spock was smiling at her. A sharp sting of betrayal crept into Kirk's gut. He knew Spock could smile of course. Spock occasionally smiled at Jim. But seldom, and never with this strange happiness. 

And he never smiled at anyone other than Jim. 

Spock’s smiles were reserved for him alone.

Worry took the place of anger. He demanded to know why Spock had not responded to his orders. The response: "I didn't want to Jim", said with a cheeky smile and touch of glee did not inspire confidence. Something was wrong with Spock! For the Vulcan’s own sake he placed him under arrest for disregarding orders and placed him in Sulu's custody. They would get Spock back to McCoy, back to the enterprise, and restore him to himself!

Spock did not resist arrest thank goodness. Although to be fair, he did not seem to understand he was actually under arrest. Holding the girls hand and striding ahead of them on the walk back. Once nearer the settlement he stopped by a patch of flowers, apparently to admire them. To Jim's horror the flower somehow spat something at them - Spores - Spock explained. Sulu and Xi immediately agreed with Spock that the colony must not be removed, and refused to follow his orders.

Something was clearly very, very wrong. He whirled, running back to the colony to check on Bones. The doctor also was smiling and happy. Bones! Smiling and happy. His Georgian accent was on full display and he kept insisting Jim relax and enjoy the peace. Offering to make mint julips!

Once back on the enterprise the situation was worse; the entire crew had been overcome with the collective madness, refusing to follow orders, smiling as they agreed that they were mutinying, sabotaging his ship so they could not leave!

Could not call for help!

They were stranded here.

Hopelessness crept over him. He flopped in his chair, testing the communicators, checking in with every department. It seemed no one else was aboard. They had all beamed down.

He wished desperately for his Spock. For ideas, for support.

For a smile.

His choices were dire. To stay on board the enterprise until her systems failed and he died; or to beam back down to the planet, to join them. Yet even then; the Spores had coughed over him several times, he had not been infected. It seemed that he, and he alone was immune.

Oh, he smiled bitterly. How Bones would have laughed. Here was Jim, allergic and reacting to practically everything; now stuck, practically marooned because he could not react to this.... happiness pollen.

....

Spock felt some slight trepidation. 

Three days after they first arrived at Omicron Ceti III the entire crew had now joined the colony. But Jim had walled himself on the enterprise and was refusing to join them; communicating only with McCoy. Spock had overheard some of their communications and Jim sounded frustrated and worn. He desperately wished to beam aboard the enterprise and take Jim in his arms, to comfort him and promise that everything would be alright.

To hold him and to be held.

He was mostly detached from the colony-mind. The plant, now it had most the entire crew under its thrall was no longer monitoring him so closely, and he had begun to think of ways to break its hold on the others. Yet he still, in the shallow, selfish part of his mind hoped that Jim would join them.

He still desired the future the plant had promised. But he knew it would be a shade, a pale version of working beside Jim as he truly was. It would be fake. Jim, with his firm and commanding mind, would never give himself to Spock the way the plant had promised. 

The prior night many had paired off, but many had also participated in a gleaming chaos of love. Skin, sweaty, sticky and hot, rubbing, moulding. Watching on he could barely make out individuals. Spock had held himself separate. There was only one man he would give himself to. But he had watched, and the pleasure, contentment and happiness of the colonists and crew had melded over him. If only he were human and the plant could protect him from the radiation he thought he may have been happy to stay here indefinitely. But it could not, and Jim would not. 

It was not to be. He desired that with Jim, but he desire Jim's happiness more.

His fellow crew mates should not. They were drugged, this fleeting happiness contained them; but he knew. These were some of the finest minds in the universe. They had striven, they had fought, and here they were controlled. None of them in their right mind would be happy. Sliding flesh and tilling earth could never hold them.

He must set them free. For them, for Jim, for himself. He was ashamed to have given in at all. Logically he knew he had no choice. But Jim must also be feeling that he had no choice, and he held on, strove. Ever climbing the climbing wave, toiling on.

That morning Elias had asked him to have a drink. He knew Elias felt some fear that once Jim joined them Jim would replace him as the leader. It was only logical, and to Elias, Jim joining them was only a matter on time. He knew that Elias had felt his regard for Jim through the bond and hoped that by wooing Spoke he could maintain a high position in the colony.

Their tea dragged on. It wore at Spock to keep up this farce. He could find no weaknesses, struggled to see how he could possibly free the crew. The time limit (the Berthold rays would begin to kill him in days) hung over his head. There must be a way free.

He was delighted when he felt Jim beam to the planet's surface.

The Captain strode into their conversation. He hijacked it into a discussion of the morality and condition of man. He refused to believe that this was Eden reformed - or, if it was, he refused to belief that they belonged there.

"Man stagnates if he has no ambition." he declared. He demanded a challenge, no rest, no peaceful paradise. That was not for him.

Spock was delighted. Here was Jim, here was his passion. He would never give into the plant. As before Spock would be what his Captain needed, he would be the challenge; the captain would save them all.

Following their conversation Jim beamed straight back to the ship, not leaving the farm house, going nowhere that the plant could infect him. 

Shortly after Layla joined them; she had apparently been aboard, placing fresh flowers where they could inflect Jim. She could feel his dissatisfaction she explained. Once the Captain joined them they could be together properly.

For a planet which seemed to inspire few emotions in others; Spock's moods shifted constantly and violently. Minutes ago he had been delighting in his captain; now he was furious at this woman for daring to try and steal Jim's independence from him. Feeling her through the colony meld he could tell that she desired the captain, sort to encourage him to join them. He knew this was partly his fault. He had planned this. Had envisioned this. Layla had probably picked up the ideas from his mind. But he would not share the Captain. If Jim was ever his he would be his! And whether his or not Spock would never allow Jim to be drugged into a relationship. 

He abruptly stood, and informed Elias and Layla that as she had placed the spores aboard Jim must not be inflected. He would beam aboard to ensure the captains deliverance to them post haste.

....

Jim shivered on the bridge. He had never felt so alone. The enterprise was always so full of life. Her crew, her soul, had deserted her and she mourned in silence. 

He felt hopeless, he wanted Spock. He felt that if only he could convince Spock they could find their way free of this maze; yet it was just him and he had no clue what to do next. He had tried, he had been eloquent, logical, and could only hope his arguments reached Spock in time.

To make matters worse he had seen that there were some fresh flowers in the transporter room. Days before the plants had been beamed aboard, and the pollen had entered the air filtration systems quickly infecting the entire crew. Although he seemed to be immune, he was afraid that he would soon lose his independence and become like those poor souls on the planet’s surface.

He felt this was quite possibly the lowest he had ever been. Even when Spock was trapped in that Volcano he had had a plan, a hope. Even when the enterprise was crashing to earth and he knew that to save her crew he must die himself he had had a purpose. Now....

He sat, and turned over his thoughts.

Bitterness clung to him, of course it would be now, when hope seemed lost that he would realise that Spock was as necessary to him as a challenge. That Spock, his oh so Vulcan first officer was that which re-affirmed Jim's belief in humanity. That Spock, he now realised, gave him hope. And hope was gone.

He sat back and breathed, in and out, breathing the air infected with spores. 

He thought that maybe he could feel that peace. That if he could just let go of his anger and drive the spores would take him too. That he could beam to the surface and give up. But there were still new worlds out there, places to explore, peoples to meet. He found he did not want to meet them without Spock at his side. 

No, he did not want to meet them at all.

On the planet’s surface was Spock. Was Bliss. Omicron was Eden. He must join the colony. 

No anger, no needs, no wants. 

The Colony would provide all.

He grabbed is away bag, and as he did, one of his medals clattered to the floor. He bent to retrieve it.

The medal of valour.  
The symbol of his commitment to his crew, to the federation.  
And this planet tried to take that from him.

Anger burned in him. How dare it! His head was clear, he would rather die defending the federation, working to restore his ship, his crew, than beam to that fools paradise. It wanted it him to believe he had found something special... but everything inside knew that that was wrong. Man could not 'find' paradise. Man must work to build paradise. Must explore, must search. Paradise was made, not found. And it could only be transient; without striving how could any on that planet truly experience happiness?

His head was clear.

His purpose was clear.

Anger, anger would free his crew.

At that moment the transporter lit up. Spock materialised.

Jim almost laughed at irony. He rejected Eden and the man he know knew he loved appeared to tempt his downfall. But he had fought for Spock on the planet, he had fought with logic and passion. Now he knew that to free him he must anger him. This dismayed him. Spock was far stronger than him. He had almost killed him once before and now Jim must provoke a second violent range. This time Spock's father would not be there to admonish him. Bones would not be there to fix Jim's bones and cuts. It was almost enough to make him disappear again.

Then to his astonishment he saw Spock's eyes. Anger. Something had already reached the Vulcan. He was free. Jim watched as Spock set about grabbing the spores, throwing them to the transporter, as many as he could find. And beaming them down, back to the planet. he was ferocious in his haste to remove the spores.

Jim stood, and walked towards the transporter room. 

"What are you doing Mr Spock?"

"Sending these back to the planet."

"Why?"

"So they cannot infect you Jim."

"Spock..."

The Vulcan turned towards him. It was true! Somehow Spock had been restored. He gave Jim is eye smile, and Jim found himself grinning back. Overwhelmed with happiness. He threw himself at the Vulcan - who caught him in an embrace.

"You are still free Jim?"

"Yes." Jim found himself nuzzling into Spock, his warmth, his smell. This was Jim's paradise, fleeting, transient, but real.

"Jim"

He looked up and into Spock's eyes. "Jim!"

"Mr Spock"

Jim detangled himself. "Anger Mr Spock. I was caught, briefly, but I found than anger releases the Spores hold."

Spock nodded: " We will build come sort of devise to send subsonic waves down to the colony to release their emotions." Jim nodded along. They were in tandem, and if, as they built the radio device their hands brushed, he did not draw back, and neither did Spock.

Nearly 10 hours later it was done. The devise itself was not o difficult, but programming the routine, to make the crews skin itch and peel, to heighten anger and fear... well Jim had never tried to program anything like that before that it took quite some time.

Once they turned it on he abruptly realised he was exhausted; and so collapsed next to Spock on the bridge. "Spock?", he muttered, suddenly self conscious... but he knew what he wanted and Jim Kirk had never let social mores hold him back, "Will you hold me." 

Spock smiled, even his lips, as he moved Jim into his lap and surrounded him in an intimate and comforting embrace.

"Rest Jim".

....

Spock held Jim; his mind danced with glee, and anticipation.

The crew would shortly begin to beam back on board, the Colonists with them. And his handsome Captain slept in Spock's lap, trusting him as only true partners could. And, as Jim twisted in his sleep, nuzzling closer to Spock, it was clear, Spock's paradise was on the enterprise, and would stay with him, no mind control required.


End file.
